


ode to wildwood, waiting rooms, & the new wombats song

by lo fi asmr (s0dafucker)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, beach imagery ig, imagine a dentist office, lapslock, prose, the imagery is nice, u know how theyre all beach themed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-06 16:32:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15889827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/s0dafucker/pseuds/lo%20fi%20asmr
Summary: what it says on the tin





	ode to wildwood, waiting rooms, & the new wombats song

hey, kid, you did it. 

you can breathe now- the sky is dripping down our throats like hot coffee, and the coals smell like our seventh birthdays. the smoke lingers in your jacket. 

it's okay; i got you, we’ll turn this corner together, and the receptionist has too many eyes, but i’ll hold your hand while we wait, and if you kiss me i’ll fold your anxieties into a paper swan, burn it in the radiator. you taste like saltwater and gray matter. 

she speaks like windchimes, like the table on your back porch. your scarred legs brush against mine and it feels like radio static. 

the ghosts don’t hurt us, but they flicker on the edges, bodies that meld with the peeling paint. they whisper to you and i see your hands shake. you’re gonna be alright. the worst is behind us. 

we scratch angel numbers into the walls and our footsteps fall silent. i let you lead. the carpet is the color of your eyes, ever-shifting. the clouds are rising up in my throat and you steady me with hands pale and dripping with mercury. you turn the doorknob and it unspools like the film in a vhs.

the hourglass runs out and we tip it on its side, make an infinity symbol, and time stops ticking. 

there’s sand in your hair, seaglass in your pockets,  and the nicotine runs through your veins and makes your blood taste a little less like stars. i don’t mind.

the gulls circle like vultures and hey, kid, whatever happened in there is over. you have your papers. it’s a fresh start. the sun melts into the sea and it laps at our sneakers, bright enough to burn. you look at me and your eyes are the same shade. 

there’s sand in the hood of your jacket, seaglass clinging to your eyelashes. your shadow stretches down the beach. an icarus silhouette.  


there’s a campfire in your pocket, burning a hole in your windbreaker. your blood is dark-blue-black and it burns my throat like vodka. we let the sky slip into the sea, silently, graceful. she deserves it.  


there’s lightning in you, kid, something kicking up dust in your nervous system. you blink and it’s the cock of a gun. our fingers intertwine, your bones feverish and mine like ice. the tide comes in and we let it.  

**Author's Note:**

> this is abt getting the Fuck over august and summer in general lmao  
> i wrote this instead of doing my history hw


End file.
